Marked

Chapter Fourteen

When I woke up again, I was still on the couch and it wasn't much after six in the morning. Chase was still asleep and I was again faced with nothing to do. I thought about taking another shower but instead decided to catch up on the news.

Same old, same old, riots, protest, no other change than that though...

I checked my e-mail and saw that Dallas e-mailed me the time for my job and who I need to speak to. I work today at nine.

I set aside my laptop and got up. I walked—stumbled—into my bedroom where Chase was sleeping peacefully. I grabbed a pair of jean shorts—a nicer pair—and put on a white t-shirt. I pulled on socks and a pair of tennis shoes.

I went into the living room and e-mailed Dallas.

Dear Dallas,

I need more information for my job. What do I wear, what will I be doing—not just busing, I need more info than that—who will I be speaking to and what are they like? Simple questions like that.

Also, I need you to keep this chat about my job strictly between you and me. As much as I love Witterfield knowing what happens outside of our little interrogation chats... I don't.

Meet me at the coffee shop on 25th in ten minutes.

See you then,

Riley Moore/Scarlett Rennal

P. S. If you EVER call me Scar again, I will cut you and GIVE you a scar. Consider that your fair warning...

Send.

I wrote a note to Chase telling him where I was going then walked out the door.

I took the Jeep to the coffee shop and—to my surprise—Dallas was already there, waiting for me, with an iced coffee. My expression must have shown through because when I walked up to Dallas, he said, "What? Didn't expect me to be on time?" A laugh. "Well, I guess you're wrong." He pulled out a chair for me. I sat down. "You have questions?"

I took a sip of the coffee. Then stuck out my tongue in disgust. "Decaf."

"What? I didn't think you'd need caffeine."

"I always need caffeine." EspeCially with the nightmares... "So, about the job. Who will I be talking to?"

"Corbin Randshaw. He is the manager and he'll be telling you what to do."

I tried to relax, but I felt like other eyes were watching me. "Corbin. Got it." I tried to shake off the feeling of being watched but couldn't. "You didn't bring anyone along with you... did you? Like, Witterfield isn't sitting in your fancy car, watching me is he?"

Dallas's focus moved to over my shoulder. "No... why...?"

I shrugged. "I just feel like I'm being watched." I dismissed the feeling to the back of my mind. "Corbin. Okay, so I talk to him and he'll tell me all I need to know?"

"Yep."

"What do I wear?"

"What you're wearing now is fine." He smiled. "You could probably cut back on the makeup though. You have such beautiful white eyes and all the eyeliner is taking away from them."

I rolled my eyes. "You know, eyeliner is meant to bring out my eyes. But, okay, I'll cut back on the makeup. Any other critiques about how I look, or are you just going to hit on me some more. Because, I must warn you, I have a boyfriend and last time I checked, you don't have an eagle." I glanced down at his wrist. "Tuff luck in a society like this, it's a shame no one is trying to change it."

"Dearest Scar,"

"Don't call me Scar! That is not a nickname you can call me! You can call me by my real name, Riley Moore. Actually, Moore is fine with me since I'm not on a first name basis with you, Dallas."